


25 Days of Christmas

by Alvinola



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Advent Calendar, Angst, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Christmas, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Stomach Ache, Vomiting, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 16,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21632938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alvinola/pseuds/Alvinola
Summary: Twenty-five short stories to count down the days to Christmas.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 65
Kudos: 124





	1. Day One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean eats too much raw cookie dough.

“You really shouldn’t have eaten all that cookie dough,” Sam said, while carding his long fingers through his brother’s dirty blond hair.

Dean, whose head was pillowed on Sam’s thighs, grunted unhappily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam reached for the waistband of Dean’s unbuttoned jeans with his free hand. “I’m talking about _this_ ,” he said, giving the material a sharp tug.

Dean hissed in pain and slapped Sam’s hand away. “Dude, get your hands off!”

“Sorry,” Sam sighed, settling his hand on his brother’s hip instead. “All I’m saying is that there’s a reason why parents tell their kids not to eat raw dough. It’s either gonna make you feel sick or give you a stomach ache.”

Self-consciously, Dean tugged his sweater down to cover up his unbuttoned pants. “It’s not that bad,” he mumbled, just as his belly gurgled loudly, making him wince.

“Oh, _really?”_ Sam chuckled. He slid his hand from his brother’s hip up to his stomach, and started rubbing in small circles. Beneath his palm, Dean’s belly was bloated and hard.

Dean closed his eyes with a content hum and arched his back a little. “Don’t stop,” he muttered.

Smiling gently, Sam gave his brother’s tummy a gentle pat. “Does it feel good?”

“You have no idea,” Dean moaned.

“Does that mean you’re admitting that eating half a bowl or raw cookie dough was a stupid idea?” Sam asked, grinning.

Dean cracked one eye open and smirked up at his brother. “Less questions and more rubbing, Sammy.”

“Got it,” Sam replied with a smile and continued to gently rub his brother’s upset belly.


	2. Day Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean accidentally drinks some bad eggnog.

“Does this eggnog taste funny to you?”

“Dean, enough already,” Sam sighed, as he set down a platter of store-bought gingerbread cookies on the coffee table. “You already complained about the ham that wasn’t seasoned well enough and the gravy you thought was too watery. Give it a rest.”

Dean pursed his lips. “It’s not my fault you’re a terrible cook,” he muttered into his mug, taking another cautious sip.

Rolling his eyes, Sam plopped down on the couch next to his brother and snatched a cookie off the plate. “Just drink your eggnog.”

Halfway through _Die Hard_ , which Dean insisted was a Christmas movie, the elder Winchester started fidgeting.

“Can you stop that?” Sam hissed, when his brother accidentally elbowed him in the ribs for the third time. Dean’s only response was a gruff grunt, but he did settle down again.

Another twenty minutes passed before Dean let out a low moan. “Dude, my stomach’s cramping like crazy. I think you’re cooking gave me food poisoning.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Sam muttered. He glanced over at his brother, who was rubbing a hand over his belly. “It’s probably just indigestion.”

Clutching his stomach, Dean pushed himself off the couch. “Be right back,” he mumbled, before retreating from their living room, slash TV room, slash “mancave”.

Sam had returned his attention to the movie, when his own, still untouched, mug of eggnog caught his eye. Bringing it to his lips, he took a drink and almost choked on the foul taste of it. He spit the mouthful back out and coughed. “What the hell…” Glancing at the coffee table, he saw his brother’s empty mug. “Great,” he grumbled and quickly stood up.

In the kitchen, he took a closer look at all the ingredients he had used to make the beverage. When he turned over the carton of eggs and saw the _best if used by_ date, he winced.

Sam entered the bunker’s restroom and headed for the stall that had its door only partly closed. “Dean, how are you holding up?”

“I’m dying, that’s how I’m holding up,” his brother grunted, followed by a wet belch. “You know, if you want to get rid of me, there are easier ways than poison.”

Sam sighed and nudged the door fully open, finding Dean hunched over the toilet bowl. “I didn’t poison you,” he said. “At least not on purpose…” he added under his breath and wedged himself between the wall and his brother’s body. He placed a comforting hand on his back. “Anything come back up yet?”

“No,” Dean grunted. His belly gurgled noisily and he curled forward, both hands gripping the rim of the bowl. He gagged and a milky string of saliva dripped from his lips.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Sam apologized. “The eggs—”

Dean held up a hand. “I really don’t want to hear that right now.”

Nodding, Sam continued to run his hand up and down his brother’s spine. He slipped his other one around Dean’s waist and gently lay his hand on his stomach.

“Dude, if you push on my gut, I will kill you,” Dean warned, but arched into the touch just the tiniest bit.

“What’s up with the paranoia? I’m not trying to hurt you,” Sam assured him and began to gently rub his brother’s tummy in circular motion.

Groaning, Dean dropped his head to his bent forearm. “I’m not gonna let you step foot in our kitchen again. Not ever.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam replied, smiling at his brother’s empty threat. He continued to carefully rub Dean’s aching belly, until he suddenly lurched forward and threw up everything he had eaten in the past twenty-four hours.


	3. Day Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean overeats at Jody's house.

“Man, I had no idea Jody can cook like that. She made, like what? Six different sides and three pies for dessert? That woman’s awesome.”

Sam chuckled at the admiration in his brother’s voice and snuggled closer to his side. Throwing one leg over Dean’s hip, he pulled him closer until their bodies were flush against each other.

Even though they had turned off all the lamps in Jody’s guest room, the neighbors’ Christmas lights illuminated the room enough for Sam to see his brother’s profile. With a smirk, he poked him in the belly. “You should be in a food coma right about now. You basically ate that last pie all by yourself.”

As if on cue, Dean’s stomach gurgled loudly. Smirking, Sam nudged his shoulder. “See?”

“I’m just digesting,” Dean explained and patted his belly with a content smirk.

“That’ll take a while,” Sam chuckled, sliding his hand over the noticeable swell of his brother’s full tummy. “I’m surprised you don’t have a stomach ache.”

“Eh, it’s not that bad,” Dean said and started twirling a strand of Sam’s long hair between his fingers.

“Does that mean you do have a stomach ache?”

Dean shrugged. “Totally worth it, though.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Sam laughed and slipped his hand under his brother’s thin shirt. “Where does it hurt?”

Dean sighed. “It feels tight up here. Kinda achy.”

“Here?” Sam asked, while gently rubbing his palm back and forth over a firm spot right below his brother’s sternum.

“Mhm…” Dean sighed heavily. “Sammy, I think I ate too much,” he mumbled sleepily, followed by a yawn.

“Really? What makes you think that?” Sam laughed, giving his tummy an affectionate pat.

Instead of replying, Dean began to snore softly. “And here’s the inevitable food come I’ve been waiting for…” Sam whispered quietly and pressed a tiny kiss to the corner of his brother’s mouth.


	4. Day Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel curses Dean.

“This is ridiculous! And stupid. And not even supposed to be possi— argh!” Dean interrupted his own tirade with a wheezing groan and doubled over, catching himself on the edge of a small table. “Son of a bitch!” he panted.

Sam hurried to his brother’s side. “Hey, whoa, take it easy.”

Dean fixed him with a murderous glare and stabbed a finger at his chest. “You try taking it easy when it feels like your guts are being ripped open from the inside!”

“Dean, you need to calm down.”

“I swear to god, Sam. If you keep telling me to calm down, I will kill you! Ugh, crap!”

Sam gripped his brother’s upper arm and dragged him over to one of the queen-sized beds. The springs squeaked when he forced Dean to sit down and kept him seated with a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Breathe through it.”

“Through _what?!”_ Dean gasped, clutching the duvet on either side of his body.

“Through the contraction—”

Dean’s head snapped up. “Do not call it that! This is not a contraction!”

Sam glanced down at his brother’s stomach and bit his lip. Every trace of Dean’s once flat belly was gone. Instead, his middle was rounded outwards, stretching the material of his shirt.

“God,” Dean groaned and pressed a palm to his swollen tummy. “The thing keeps squirming!”

The fluttering of wings made both brothers jump. Dean instantly staggered to his feet. “You!” he hissed and lunged for the archangel who had materialized in the middle of their motel room. Sam held him back by wrapping an arm around his chest and hauling him back.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there, tiger,” Gabriel smirked, holding up both hands in surrender.

“I should have known that you’re responsible for this,” Dean growled.

Gabriel leisurely strolled over to their kitchenette and snatched a piece of candy off the counter. “What can I say?” he shrugged and threw the chocolate in his mouth. “I overheard you say that you don’t believe in the Immaculate Conception of Mary which,” he wiggled his finger at Dean. “is a big no-no. Jesus was a cool dude, by the way. Liked to party way more than people give him credit for.”

“And the most logical thing you came up with was to _knock me up?!_ I’m going to rip your wings out, you bastard!” Dean threatened, then bent over to brace himself against another contractions.

“Dean.” Sam pushed his flushed brother backward until the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat down again. Then he kneeled down in front of Dean and rubbed his hand soothingly over his round stomach. “Just relax. I’ll fix this, alright?”

When Dean reluctantly nodded, Sam gave him a reassuring smile before he stood up and shoved the archangel against a wall in one swift move. “You fix him. _Now_ ,” he growled and pressed an angel blade against Gabriel’s throat.

“Sammy, Sammy. It’s not that easy—” Gabriel tried, but Sam stopped him by slamming him harder against the wall.

His brother’s pained moan made Sam look over his shoulder. Dean’s entire frame was shaking and sweat had broken out all over his body. He was clawing at his belly, face gone pale. “Sammy…”

“Fix. Him. Now,” Sam barked, as he glared back at the archangel.

“Fine,” Gabriel sighed with a dramatic eyeroll. “You guys are no fun,” he added under his breath and snapped his finger.

Then he disappeared.

Shocked, Sam spun around. “Dean!” he shouted and rushed to his brother’s side. Dean was lying motionless on his side on the bed. With trembling fingers, Sam rolled him over and yanked up his shirt. “Thank god,” he breathed and dropped his hand to the smooth, even skin of his brother’s tummy.

Dean began to stir with a groan. “I know I said that I hate witches. But I hate angels more. So much more…” he grunted, sliding his hand over his flat abdomen.

With a weary laugh, Sam slumped down on the bed next to his brother.


	5. Day Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam comes home late and Dean's in pain.

It was late when Sam tiptoed back into the motel room. Locking the door behind his back, he squinted at the Dean-sized shape that lay on the large bed. His brother appeared to be sleeping and Sam cursed himself for losing track of time.

As quietly as possible, he took off his jacket and stripped out of his jeans. He smelled faintly of smoke and beer, but a shower would have to wait until morning.

Sam gingerly lifted the edge of the blanket and slipped into bed next to his brother. He held his breath as he wiggled around a little to find a comfortable position.

Just when he thought he’d managed to settle down without waking Dean, his brother shifted. “Where have you been?”

Cringing, Sam rolled onto his right side. “You’re awake.”

“Not what I asked,” Dean grumbled, without bothering to turn around and face his brother.

Sighing, Sam propped himself up on one elbow and ran a hand through his long hair. “I’m sorry. The victim’s best friend asked me to join him and his buddies for a couple of drinks. I thought it would be a good idea to gather information. You know, ask some questions about the murder.”

“And it had nothing to do with the fact that the guy went to Stanford or anything, right?”

Sam bit his lip. “Dean—”

“Forget it. Let’s not talk about it. It’s late.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Sam sighed and shifted closer to his brother. Wrapping an arm around his waist, he tried to pull him closer, but recoiled when Dean hissed in pain. “What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously, hand hovering in midair.

“Nothing,” Dean grunted.

“Are you hurt?” Sam asked and put his hand on his brother’s side.

“I’m _fine_.”

The statement was contradicted by a whining noise. Sam frowned. “Was that your _stomach?”_

“No.”

“It _was_ your stomach, wasn’t it!” Sam levered himself higher up on his elbow. He felt Dean suck in a breath and made sure to be gentle when he touched his belly. “What the hell?” he muttered, when he felt how bloated his brother’s stomach was.

“Alright, enough with the groping,” Dean muttered and tried to shove Sam’s hand off.

Instead of complying, Sam splayed his palm over his brother’s swollen tummy. “Dude, how much did you eat?!”

“Let it go, Sam,” Dean growled and tried to move away. His stomach let out another whining gurgle and his breath hitched.

“Take it easy. You’ll make yourself sick,” Sam warned.

“Too late for that,” Dean admitted. “I got takeout for our pre-Christmas dinner but you never showed up, didn’t even call. So, I ate it all.”

Wincing in sympathy, Sam rubbed his hand back and forth over his brother’s tender tummy. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. For me, though, not for you. You deserve to go to bed hungry for not calling. I was worried.”

Leaning forward, Sam dropped his forehead to his brother’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I’ll call next time, I promise.”

“You better,” Dean grumbled. Then he moaned and put his hand on top of Sam’s. “Ugh, I’ve never been this full in my entire life.”

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll make you feel better. It’s the least I can do.”

Dean nodded and melted against his brother’s chest. Pressing a kiss to the soft spot behind his ear, Sam continued to gently rub Dean’s aching tummy until they both fell asleep.


	6. Day Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean challenges Sam to a pie eating contest.

“That was a stupid idea,” Sam grunted, followed by a loud belch.

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and handed him a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. “Oh, you _think?”_

“Don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t my idea,” Sam reminded him, then winced. He put his hands on either side of his inflated belly and took a deep breath, but that only caused his stomach to spasm. “I can’t even suck it in,” he moaned.

“Don’t blame this on me,” Dean warned and stabbed a finger at his brother. “I didn’t force you to do anything. You volunteered.”

“Yeah, _after_ you kept taunting me that I’d never be able to beat you in a pie eating contest!”

“And, as usual, I was right. And now you owe me that expensive Whiskey for Christmas,” Dean said with a smug grin.

“You only had one slice more than me, dude,” Sam pointed out, before tipping his head back and gulping down the Pepto-Bismol. He grimaced at the chalky taste of it.

“Get some sleep, Sammy. It’ll help your stomach digest,” Dean suggested and tossed a blanket at his brother.

With some effort, Sam managed to stretch out on the ratty couch. He awkwardly wrapped the blanket around himself and nodded off within seconds.

As soon as his brother’s soft snores reached Dean’s ears, he blew out a breath and hung his head. His own gut was cramping madly and he felt vaguely nauseous. He should have stopped eating sooner, but letting his baby brother win had _not_ been an option.

He shuffled over to the armchair in the corner and gingerly sat down. His belly protested the movement and he had to swallow down a burp, which only added to the pressure in his stomach.

Dean glanced at his brother, before reaching down to unbutton his jeans. The relief was instantaneous and he exhaled slowly. He sank against the cushions and pulled up his shirt. Wincing, he pressed a palm against the most tender part of his tummy.

As he tried to sooth the cramps with some gentle kneading and slow breaths, the sound of Sam clearing his throat made him jump.

“You look like you could use this. Catch,” Sam grinned, and tossed the bottle of Pepto-Bismol to his brother.

Dean caught the medicine onehandedly. “I don’t—”

“Save it,” Sam smirked. “You look like you’re about to either puke or explode. Just take it.”

“Fine,” Dean agreed and drained the rest of the bottle. He put a hand on his belly when the added liquid made it gurgle and stifled another burp. “Remind me to never talk you into an eating contest again, Sammy.”

Sam smiled sleepily and closed his eyes. “Deal.”


	7. Day Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam run out of food and John is nowhere to be found.

“Dean, when is dad going to be back? He said he’d be here before Christmas.”

Sighing, Dean dumped a can of cooked SpaghettiOs in a bowl and set it down in front of his fourteen-year-old brother. “I already told you, I don’t know,” he replied, harsher than intended.

Sam glared at him. “Sheesh, no need to bite my head off.”

“Sorry,” Dean muttered and ran a weary hand down his face.

After taking two bites of his dinner, Sam cocked an eyebrow at his brother. “Where’s your food?”

“I already ate, which you would have noticed if you hadn’t been so absorbed in your book, you geek,” Dean said and ruffled Sam’s hair as he passed him. “I’m gonna chop some more wood for the stove.”

Dean put on his coat and slipped out the door. As soon as it fell shut behind him, he slumped against the nearest wall and closed his eyes. His head was spinning. Dad had promised he’d be back a week ago. They had run out of food two days later, and because John had crashed his truck during a hunt, he had taken the Impala, which left Sam and Dean stranded in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

As soon as Dean had realized that they were running low on supplies, he had started rationing his own food. He’d cut back on his portions until they were almost nonexistent. At his point, he didn’t even know when he had eaten last.

Digging his knuckles into his achingly empty stomach, he stumbled around the cabin and picked up the axe. He barely managed to lift it over his head.

Dean was on the verge of passing out when he saw two beams of light. Blinking his eyes, he straightened up. A relieved exhale passed his lips when the Impala came into view.

“Dad,” he greeted his father when he got out of the car.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” John said and pulled his oldest into a hug. He held up a brown paper bag. “I brought dinner. I hope you guys are hungry.”

Despite the SpaghettiOs Sam had eaten not even an hour earlier, he was happily tucking into his burger. Dean watched him with a smile, wondering if his brother would ever stop growing.

“Something wrong with your food, son?”

Dean swallowed and glanced down at his half-eaten burger. “Uhm, no. I’m just—”

“Eat up. This is the best damn burger in all of Wyoming,” John announced proudly.

Dean nodded and took another bite. Truth was, he was already uncomfortably full. He hadn’t had anything to eat in a while and it didn’t take much to fill up his stomach.

Three bites later and Dean was unable to swallow more. He dropped the remaining half of the burger and curled an arm around his tummy.

“Are you okay?” John asked.

Dean swallowed thickly. “My stomach hurts a little.”

John put down his own burger and got to his feet. Rounding the table, he knelt down next to his son. “Let me see.”

“Dad, it’s fine—”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” John said sternly, as he placed his hand on his son’s belly. Dean grunted when he pressed down a little. John frowned. “When was the last time you had something to eat?”

Dean’s eyes flickered over to Sam, who was watching them curiously. “I, uh—”

“Sam,” John ordered his youngest without looking at him. “Go get ready for bed.”

“But—”

“No buts, Sammy. Now.”

Begrudgingly, Sam disappeared in the room he and Dean shared. As soon as he was gone, John repeated his question.

“I’m not sure. It’s been a while, I guess,” Dean admitted.

Sighing, John stood up. “Lay down on the couch. I’ll make you some tea. It’ll help with the stomach ache.”

“Dad, I’m sorry…”

John cupped his son’s cheek. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have left you alone without more food or a car. This is on me.”

Dean curled up on the couch next to the stove and wrapped an arm around his bloated belly. His dad brought him a cup of tea a few minutes later and sat down on the coffee table.

“How does your stomach feel?” John asked when Dean had drunken half the mug.

Dean put a hand on his belly. “I feel really full. And heavy. Like I’ve got rocks in there.”

“Listen, son. Next time you run out of food, you _call me_ , you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

John gave his son a soft smile. “Good. Now drink the rest of the tea and then get some rest.”


	8. Day Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a special Christmas gift request for his brother.

“Do you think you can manage another slice? There’s only two left.”

The hopeful look on his brother’s face almost made Dean cave, but a dull cramp above his bellybutton made him reconsider. He blew out a slow breath.

“I don’t know, man. I’m kinda full already,” he admitted and looked down at himself with a grimace. His usually flat abdomen was distended and the elastic waistband of his sweatpants was beginning to cut uncomfortably into his skin.

“Please?” Sam begged, looking at his brother with his signature puppy dog eyes.

Dean groaned and put his hands on either side of his swollen belly. “Come on, Sammy,” he whined. “I had two whole pies already, plus six slices of that cherry one.”

“But I made the pies just for you… And you did ask me what I want for Christmas and, well, this is it,” Sam said, sounding disappointed.

Huffing out an irritated breath, Dean glared at him and shifted his weight on the chair. “Really? Guilt tripping me? Real mature, Sam.”

Dean grit his teeth when another cramp built deep in his stomach. “Son of a bitch,” he cursed, hands rubbing furiously over his bloated belly. He felt like he was about to explode, splattering homemade pie all over the bunker’s walls.

“Just breathe through it,” Sam said, and reached out to gently press his fingers against a particularly tight spot. Dean flinched at the pressure and tried to shift away, but Sam’s other hand on his hip kept him in place. “Relax.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one whose stomach is about to rapture,” he grumbled.

“Your stomach isn’t going to rapture, Dean,” his brother chuckled and produced a fork with a piece of cherry pie from somewhere. “Let me prove it to you.”

Tired of arguing, Dean gave in. “Fine. But if I puke, it’s going to be in your lap. Just so you know,” Dean warned, before he reluctantly opened his mouth and accepted the bite.

“I’m willing to take that chance,” Sam grinned and fed his brother another piece.

“How are you feeling?”

“Heavy. Stuffed. Sick,” Dean grunted and stifled a burp in his fist. He tried to take a deep breath, but all the dessert his brother had fed him made even the simplest task difficult.

Sam, who was pressed against Dean’s back, splayed a large palm over his brother’s tummy. “You did so well, though. I didn’t think you’d be able to finish all of it.”

“I probably shouldn’t have,” Dean moaned. His full belly rumbled ominously and he tensed.

“Don’t tense up,” Sam said quietly, rubbing his warm palm in large circles over his brother’s rock-hard stomach. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to Dean’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“I can’t believe this turns you on,” his brother huffed.

Sam chuckled. “What’s not to love about it?”

“Dude,” Dean sighed, then groaned when a cramp made his packed stomach seize up. He arched his back a little and waited for it to pass. Once it did, he blew out a breath. “I look like a beached whale and I probably couldn’t move even if I wanted to. _Nothing_ about this is even remotely sexy.”

“Maybe not to you,” Sam purred. “And you don’t have to move. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

Sighing, Dean shook his head. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Maybe,” Sam chuckled and nuzzled his brother’s neck. “But I am _your_ weirdo.”

Dean smiled. “That you are.”


	9. Day Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has an eating disorder.

Dean had always been prone to eat his feelings. Instead of talking about it, he preferred to numb his pain with food or excessive alcohol consumption.

His inability to deal with things was how he ended up in the bunker’s kitchen at three in the morning. Two empty boxes of Lucky Charms littered the table, in addition to a drained carton of milk. His spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl he was eating from and he sighed. He briefly considered getting up and finding something else to eat, but the growing tightness in his stomach stopped him.

Dean put a hand on his full belly. It hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt. The kind that made you forget about your emotional pain for a while. The kind that filled the dark hole in your chest, if only briefly. He pressed down on his tummy and grunted when it triggered a cramp.

A shuffling noise made him look up and he tensed when Sam appeared. His brother swallowed audibly and looked at the ground. “Uhm, sorry. Didn’t know you’d be here.”

“I’m just about to leave.”

“You don’t have to. I’m just getting something to drink.”

There was a tangible tension between them, as Dean watched his brother walk to the refrigerator. “We’re, uh, we’re out of milk,” he pointed out.

Looking over his shoulder, Sam glanced first at his brother and then the items on the table. “Dean…” he sighed.

“Don’t,” Dean grunted and averted his eyes. They’ve had this discussion before and it had never ended well.

“You can’t keep doing this, man,” Sam said quietly. “It’s not healthy.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Dean—”

“Sam, I’m serious.”

“So am I!” his brother exploded and stalked over to Dean, towering over him. “Whenever something’s bothering you, you eat and drink until it makes you sick! So, yeah, I do consider that my business since you’re my brother and I don’t want you to completely spiral out of control!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Am I?” Sam snapped. “You drink too much and stuff yourself full of junk food to make the hurt go away, but it’s not working, is it? Because you can’t fill that aching emptiness in your heart with booze and food!”

Dean froze. His stomach started churning and before he was aware of what was happening, he lunged for the sink. His swollen belly was pressed against the counter as he gagged. Partly digested cereal poured of out his mouth and each heave sent a stab of pain through his gut.

A warm hand started to rub up and down his spine. “Dean, I’m— I went too far. I’m sorry.”

“Leave me ‘lone,” he coughed and clutched his roiling stomach.

“No,” Sam refused and moved closer. He wrapped an arm around Dean’s trembling form and placed his other hand on his cramping belly. “Just get it all out.”

Dean wanted to shove his brother off, but couldn’t. He sagged against Sam’s chest as he threw up everything he’d forced down his throat. His tummy gurgled aggressively and he grunted, prompting Sam to start rubbing his aching belly.

“We’ll figure this out, alright? You’ll be okay.”

Dean didn’t know if he believed it, but he didn’t have the heart to tell his brother. Instead, he closed his eyes and nodded wearily.


	10. Day Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is getting a very special Christmas present.

“Crap.”

Dean held the pregnancy test with trembling fingers. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the distinctive plus sign on the white stick. He was _screwed_.

“This can’t be happening,” he groaned and let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thud. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to keep himself from completely losing it.

A knock on the door made him jump. “Dean, you okay in there?”

Dropping the test and pushing it under the cabinet below the sink, he quickly got to his feet. The last thing he needed was his brother barging into the room.

“Gimme a minute,” he shouted back. He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face. It helped to clear his head a little, but he still felt like he was on the verge of a complete meltdown.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, Sam looked up from his laptop. He frowned. “You’re not looking so good.”

“I’m fine,” Dean replied gruffly.

“Did you get sick again? Maybe it’s time for a doctor’s visit, Dean. This has been going on for weeks.”

Dean grit his teeth and turned around to rummage through his duffle bag. “It’s just a bug, Sammy. I’ll be fine. Besides, tomorrow’s Christmas and I don’t want to spend it in a hospital.”

Sam sighed and Dean heard him get up. “I’m worried about you,” his brother admitted and wrapped his arms around him from behind. “Maybe this will help make you feel better…”

Gently, Sam nudged his brother over to the couch and pushed him down. He took off his sweater and let it drop to the floor, before kneeling down and working on Dean’s belt. Closing his eyes and curling his hand in his brother’s long hair, Dean allowed himself to forget about everything else, at least for another day.

“Merry Christmas,” Sam smiled and handed his brother a neatly wrapped package.

“Thank you, Sammy.” Dean gently loosened the tape and unfolded the sparkling wrapping paper. He held a plain box in his hands, when the takeout he had eaten earlier suddenly lurched in his stomach. He swallowed thickly.

“Dean?”

“Be right back,” he muttered and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door closed. He fell to his knees just in time to vomit his dinner back up.

The door creaked open again. Between heaves, Dean heard his brother rummage through the medicine cabinet.

“Shit,” Sam cursed, spilling white pills all over the tiled floor. He was picking them up when he suddenly stilled. “What’s this?”

Dean froze. He knew what his brother had found. “Sammy…”

“Is this a… _pregnancy test?”_

Running the back of his hand over his mouth, he turned around. “I can explain…”

Sam’s eyes were wide and his mouth open when he looked from the test to his brother. “Is this yours?”

“Yeah, but—"

Sam blinked. “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes. But, Sam, there are ways to take care of this, okay? Ways to remove it.”

“Why would you remove it? You don’t want the baby?”

Sam sounded perplexed, almost offended, and Dean frowned. “I don’t understand… You don’t want to get rid of it?”

Sam scooted closer to his brother and cupped his cheek. “Of course not, Dean. This is _our_ baby.”

Dean’s head was spinning. “You’re not mad?”

“No!” Sam laughed and put his hand on his brother’s tummy. “This is the best Christmas present you could have ever made me.”

“You’re serious,” Dean realized, stunned.

“Dean, I _love_ you.”

Dean felt like a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders and slumped against his brother’s chest. “I love you too,” he sighed and placed his hand atop of Sam’s.


	11. Day Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean are waiting for their daughter's arrival. (Prompt by Cleo516)

The spot next to him was empty when Sam woke. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he glanced around Bobby’s guestroom. He was just about to get out of bed and look for his missing brother, when the door creaked open and Dean shuffled in.

“Hey,” Sam said and sat up all the way. “Why are you up? Everything okay?”

“Dude, chill,” Dean chuckled. “The baby kept moving and I thought walking around would make her fall asleep.”

Sam yawned and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. “Did it help?”

Dean winced and rubbed a hand over his belly. “No.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“And keep _both_ of us up all night?” Dean asked, as he slowly lowered himself down on the edge of the mattress. He blew out a long breath. “I can’t wait for her to be born, man. If she keeps going like this, she’ll either break one of my ribs or give me internal bleeding.”

Sam moved closer to his brother. He pushed a hand underneath Dean’s shirt and rubbed it over his round bump. A strong kick against his palm made him smile, then frown. “Your belly feels a little hard.”

“I know. I noticed earlier.”

“Maybe it’s contractions?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I think I’d notice that.”

“Hey, I’m just saying. You’re past your due date already,” Sam pointed out.

Dean huffed out a breath. “Don’t remind me. I’m _huge_.”

“You look great,” Sam smiled and started sucking on the soft spot below his brother’s ear. Dean moaned and tried to push him off, but Sam refused to let go.

“Sammy…” Dean protested weakly. “If Bobby hears us…”

“He won’t,” he promised and slowly pulled Dean toward him. He maneuvered their bodies around until his brother was practically perched on top of him. His fingers were toying with the waistband of Dean’s sweatpants, when he suddenly stiffened. Sam froze. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Just a cramp.”

“Are you sure it’s—”

“It’s _not_ a contraction,” his brother cut him off.

Realizing that Dean wasn’t up for what he had in mind, Sam gently helped him lie down. Dean exhaled slowly. “Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly.

“No need to apologize,” Sam smiled and gave him a soft kiss. His hand wandered back to his distended belly and he began to slowly draw large circles with his fingertips. Their daughter kicked in response. “She’s still awake.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed wearily.

Sam tugged his brother’s shirt up, exposing his round stomach. He splayed a large palm over the top of it and smiled. “Hey, little one. I heard you’re giving your daddy a hard time? How about we make a deal. _You_ let him sleep every now and again and _I_ will try to make him eat less junk food.”

Dean snorted and punched him in the shoulder.

“What do you say?” Sam whispered. He felt movement beneath his palm, but nothing compared to the powerful kicks from earlier. Smiling, he leaned down a placed a kiss next to Dean’s bellybutton. “That’s my girl.” When he looked up, he grinned triumphantly at his brother. “I’m the baby whisperer.”

Dean rolled his eyes, amused. “Sure you are, Sammy.”


	12. Day Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's not feeling well on Christmas morning.

Dean started feeling off at around four in the morning. A headache had begun to pound behind his eyes, his joints ached and there was a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He drank some water and swallowed some over the counter meds, before returning to bed. Through all that, Sam didn’t stir.

He fell back into a fitful sleep and was woken a few hours later by a soft kiss. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find his brother showered and fully dressed.

“Merry Christmas.”

Dean smiled. “Merry Christmas, Sammy.”

Leaning down, Sam gave him another kiss. “Get up. I made breakfast,” he murmured against his lips.

Dean pulled back a little and raised his eyebrows. “ _You_ made breakfast?”

“I did,” Sam grinned. “Bacon, eggs, hash browns, fresh orange juice... The whole nine yards.”

The queasiness from earlier made itself known again and Dean felt his stomach gurgle uncomfortably. He cleared his throat to cover up the noise. “Sounds great.”

The smell of food was strong in the kitchen and Dean’s nausea instantly worsened. He sat down at the table and swallowed thickly.

His brother placed a large plate in front of him and smiled proudly. “Enjoy!”

The first bite almost got stuck in the back of Dean’s throat and he had to wash it down with a gulp of orange juice. His belly whined unhappily.

Throughout breakfast, Sam kept teasing him about the awesome Christmas present he got him, but Dean had trouble focusing. His headache had increased and the more he ate, the worse he felt. His tummy had started to hurt halfway through his plate, and he felt bloated and sick. Just thinking about the greasy bacon and sausages almost made him gag.

“What else can I get you?” Sam asked, as soon as Dean had cleared his plate.

“I’m good, Sammy, thanks,” he replied and smiled tightly. He discreetly placed a hand on his aching tummy. It gurgled again and Dean winced.

Sam tiled his head. “You okay?”

“Sam, I think I’m gonna puke.”

Alarmed, his brother immediately moved to his side. “Whoa, hey.”

Even though he hadn’t eaten way too much, Dean felt uncomfortably full. He bit back a groan and rolled the waistband of his sweatpants down a little to ease some of the pressure. He stifled a sickly burp in his fist.

“Come on, man. Let’s get you back to bed.”

“I’m sorry, Sammy.”

Sam, who was spooning his brother from behind, readjusted the hot-water bottle on Dean’s tummy. “You should have told me you’re not well.”

“I didn’t want to ruin Christmas.”

“Dean,” Sam sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’d never ruin Christmas.”

Dean put a hand on his belly and sighed. “I feel like I ate too much.”

Sam placed a hand between Dean’s belly and the hot-water bottle and began to gently knead the skin. It hurt at first and Dean grunted in discomfort, but after a few minutes it helped to lessen some of the ache.

“Feels good,” he murmured and pushed his belly more firmly against his brother’s palm.

“Try to get some rest. We can still celebrate later or tomorrow. You feeling better is more important than Christmas.”

Dean smiled. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Sam chuckled and continued to massage Dean’s upset stomach.


	13. Day Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a special Christmas gift for Sam, but things don't go according to plan. (Prompt by Zana_Zira)

Sam turned the clear plastic bag over in his hands and looked at the tiny, colorful beads inside. He squinted at his Christmas present. “Uhm, not that I’m not grateful, but what am I looking at?”

Dean, who sat next to him on the couch, snagged the bag out of his hands and ripped it open. He poured some of the pearls in his open palm. “They’re jelly water beads,” he explained. “When you add liquid, they grow to about an inch each within a few hours. People use them to water plants and stuff.”

Sam frowned. They didn’t even _have_ plants in the bunker. “Uhm, thanks…?”

His brother huffed. “I read on some kink website that people like to swallow them and let them expand in their stomach. And since you, you know, are into _that kind of stuff_ , I thought you’d like it.”

Sam blinked. His brother had never shown any kind of interest in this sort of thing before. “You don’t have to do this, Dean.”

“Look, if this is something you enjoy, then I should at least try it, right?”

Sam couldn’t deny that the thought of running his hands all over Dean’s swollen belly was appealing. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sammy.” He looked a little anxious, which made Sam appreciate the gift even more.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Course I do,” Dean chuckled and let himself be pulled into Sam’s arms.

Dean eyed the bowl in front of him and bit his lower lip. “This isn’t too much, is it?”

“Relax,” Sam smiled. “I did some research. One cup is a good amount for someone who’s never done this before. Just swallow them with some water, that way they’ll go down easier.”

Dean put a spoonful in his mouth and washed it down with a gulp of water.

“Everything good?” Sam asked when the bowl was empty, and scooted closer with his chair.

“I guess,” Dean shrugged. “I don’t feel anything yet.”

Sam nudged the large water bottle closer to his brother. “Drink up,” he smirked.

With a sigh, Dean picked it up and began chugging it. When he came up for air, he stifled a burp in his fist. “How much do I have to drink?”

“All of it, or the beads won’t have enough to soak up.”

Dean belched again, before lifting the water back to his lips. Sam was mesmerized by the way his brother’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Ugh, okay, no more water,” Dean hiccuped when the bottle was empty.

Sam placed a hand on his brother’s tummy. It was already slightly bloated by all the water he’d had. “You still feeling okay?”

“Yeah. How long do we have to wait for it to…” he waved a hand at his stomach. “…you know.”

“About twenty minutes,” Sam replied. He heard his brother’s belly gurgle and grinned excitedly.

Twenty minutes passed, then thirty and eventually an hour. Nothing happened. Dean even choked down another half of a cup, but except for some gurgling in his tummy, nothing happened.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work, Sammy.”

Sam smiled and brushed his lips against his brother’s. “Don’t worry about it.”

They were just about to head to bed, when they got a call from a hunter one state over. A nest of vampire was terrorizing a small town and he could use some backup.

Sam almost immediately nodded off in the car and Dean let him sleep. They had just crossed the border to Nebraska, when Dean felt a twinge of discomfort in his stomach. He tried to ignore it, but it worsened with each passing mile. He tried to take a deep breath, however, the building pressure in his tummy made it difficult. He flinched when he touched his middle and it was even more bloated than after he’d downed the bottle of water.

“Sammy, hey.” He smacked his brother with the back of his hand.

Sam jerked awake. “We there yet?”

“I think something’s happening.”

Dean grunted when the pressure turned into pain. He pulled over and shut off the Impala’s engine. With a curse, he clutched his stomach. “Ugh, crap.”

“Dean?”

“I think the water beads are working after all, man,” he groaned.

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

Sam turned on the car’s cabin light and shifted closer to his brother. Dean leaned back with a wince and hiked up his shirt.

“Whoa, okay. They’re _definitely_ working,” Sam gasped and placed a hand on Dean’s inflated stomach. He applied just the tiniest bit of pressure, but it was enough to make Dean hiss in pain.

“Sam, it’s really starting to hurt,” he wheezed.

“We probably shouldn’t have added that second cup,” Sam winced.

“Crap, I forgot about that,” Dean moaned. “I feel like my stomach’s about to rupture.”

“Dean, you gotta calm down.”

“How am I supposed to calm down!” Dean snapped. He pressed his palms against the stretched sides of his belly and groaned. He could feel the beads expand inside of him. Painful cramps started to seize his gut and he doubled over, forehead bumping against the steering wheel.

Sam wrapped an arm around his brother and pulled him against his chest. “That’s not quite how I pictured this would go down,” he sighed.

Dean just groaned and buried his face in Sam’s shoulder. His stomach felt so tight and heavy, he could barely draw in a proper breath. He pawed at the waistband of his jeans, until Sam nudged his fingers aside and unbuttoned his pants.

Somehow, his brother also managed to twist himself around until he was sitting sideways with Dean curled up between his legs. Sam kissed the top of his head and continued to gently knead his swollen tummy.

“You know I love you, but this is awful,” Dean groaned, fingers twisted in the material of Sam’s shirt. He looked down at himself and shuddered. His belly was huge, and thin veins were visible underneath the stretched skin.

Sam chuckled. “But you did well. For your first time.”

“My _first time?_ Just so you know, there's not going to be a _second time_. I mean, look at me! I look like a beachball!”

“A very handsome beachball, though.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You're unbelievable..."

“So I've heard,” Sam grinned and continued to gingerly rub and massage Dean’s aching tummy.


	14. Day Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is drunk and unwell. (Prompt by Zana_Zira)

“I should have cut you off sooner,” Sam grunted, as he shepherded his staggering brother down the hallway. He grabbed a flailing arm when Dean wobbled and threw it over his shoulder.

After pushing the door to their bedroom open with his hip, Sam started undressing his drunk brother. Dean tried swatting his hands away, but Sam dodged the uncoordinated attempts. He pulled off everything except Dean’s underwear and shirt.

“Come on, lie down.”

Dean complied and plopped down on the mattress. He grimaced and put a hand on his stomach.

“I don’t want to hear a single word,” Sam warned him. “I told you you’d get a stomach ache. Now be a big boy deal with it.”

With a pout, Dean rolled onto his side on top of the covers and promptly fell asleep.

Sam sighed. He should have known that letting his brother eat everything he’d wanted at the Christmas market was a bad idea. Especially all the different mulled wines.

By the time Sam was ready for bed himself, Dean seemed to be dead to the world. Sam somehow managed to wrestle the blanket free from underneath his brother and cover him with it. Then he switched off the light and lied down as well.

He was already dozing when a finger poked his shoulder. Not dead to the world, after all...

“S’mmy?”

Sam huffed. “Yes?”

“M’ tummy hurts.”

“You only have yourself to blame for that, Dean,” Sam reminded him.

A sound, almost like a whimper, reached Sam and he rolled his eyes. Deciding that he’d rather sleep than argue, he rolled over and pulled his brother flush against his chest. He slipped a hand underneath Dean’s shirt and started rubbing his belly. He had to admit that his stomach felt rather bloated and firm. However, he refused to feel sorry for him.

His brother kept squirming in his arms and after a while, Sam got frustrated. “Dean, quit it!”

“I don’ feel good.”

Sam tensed. “Not good as in your stomach still hurts or not good as in you’re gonna puke?”

Just then, his belly whined loudly and Dean moaned. Since this wasn’t the first time his brother had overeaten, Sam tried to locate some hard spots and dug his fingers in. It often helped to relieve some of the pressure, but it didn’t seem to do anything this time. Dean’s tummy just kept gurgling unhappily.

“Let’s sit you up for a minute,” Sam said and awkwardly helped his wasted brother in an upright position. Dean swayed, prompting Sam to keep a steadying hand on his back. With the other one, he turned the light back on.

Dean looked miserable. He was cradling his tummy, which looked even fuller than it had felt. A tiny flicker of sympathy sparked to life in Sam’s chest.

“You really overdid it,” he sighed, putting his hand on his brother’s tight stomach.

Dean just nodded slowly. His belly gurgled again, making him wince.

Sam, who had felt the violent gurgle under his palm, pressed down a little. A tiny burp escaped Dean, who blushed.

“It’s okay,” Sam smiled. “Looks like you’ve got a lot of air trapped in your belly. That’s probably what makes it hurt so much.” He continued to feel around for air pockets and kneaded them gently.

When his brother’s eyes started drooping and he began listing more and more to the side, Sam rearranged their bodies until Dean was basically sitting in his lap with his head resting on Sam’s shoulder.

At this point, Dean had burped out most of the air. Sam kept one hand on his brother’s swollen belly, and used the other one to gently pat his back. Every now and again, his tummy rumbled again and Dean belched once more.

Sam kept going until his own eyes fluttered closed and he fell asleep, with his brother resting against his chest.


	15. Day Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean does things he shouldn't be doing.

Sam immediately dropped the shopping bags he was carrying when he set foot in the bunker and saw his brother perched on top of a tall ladder. “What are you doing?!”

Dean startled, causing the ladder to wobble dangerously. Sam rushed to his brother’s side and steadied him.

“Don’t scare me like that, dude!” Dean snapped.

“Down. _Now!”_ Sam growled.

With an irritated sigh, Dean slowly climbed down. When he reached the bottom, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Sam. “What?”

“What do you mean, _what?!”_ Sam yelled. “What the hell were you doing up there?”

Dean raised his eyebrows and gave the partially decorated Christmas tree a pointed look. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“You can’t do that!”

“I obviously can.”

“You almost fell!”

“Yeah, because of _you!”_

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ve already had this discussion, Dean. No hunting, no bars, no coffee and _no ladders_!”

“Yeah, but— Argh!”

Sam’s head snapped up. “What is it?”

His brother blew out a shaky breath and rubbed a hand over his round stomach. “Nothing, it’s fine. He just kicked.”

Still concerned, Sam led Dean over to one of the armchairs. “Sit down.”

“Sam, seriously, I’m fine,” Dean sighed. He grabbed Sam’s hand and placed it on the side of his belly. “Here. Feel that?”

Sam immediately forgot all about the ladder incident. “He’s so strong!”

“He is,” Dean smiled, then winced. “He’s probably on a sugar high right now. I shouldn’t have eaten all the candy canes…”

“You ate _all_ of them?” Sam asked, stunned.

“Yeah…” Dean admitted sheepishly.

Shaking his head with an amused snort, Sam pushed his brother’s sweater up and cupped his bare stomach. Despite being in his 38th week, Dean had not a single stretchmark. His skin was smooth and flawless.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Sam muttered and leaned forward to brush his lips over the stretched skin.

Dean chuckled and buried his fingers in Sam’s hair. “How about we go back to bed?”

“What about the Christmas tree?”

Dean shrugged. “Eh, we can finish that later. Right now, I want you in our bedroom.”

“For a… nap?”

Dean winked at him. “Call it what you want, Sammy.”

Grinning, Sam framed Dean’s face and pulled him into a kiss.


	16. Day Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean forgets a dinner date.

Dean had just put his empty plate in the sink, when he heard the bunker’s main door slam shut. Walking into the hallway, he almost bumped into his sweaty brother.

“Good run?” he asked and leaned against the wall.

“Yeah,” Sam grinned and pulled out his earbuds. He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Dean’s lips. “Let’s get ready.”

Dean blinked. “Ready for…?”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “For our dinner reservation,” he reminded his brother. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

A memory of his brother asking him to try out the new restaurant one town over reemerged in Dean’s mind and he cringed inwardly. Maybe, he should have written the date down. And he probably shouldn’t have eaten that burger and fries just now.

“I didn’t forget,” Dean replied, acting offended. “In fact, I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

“Sure you have,” Sam chuckled. “We leave in half an hour,” he called over his shoulder, as he headed for the washrooms.

With a sigh, Dean slumped back against the wall and patted his already full stomach. “We got this. We can eat a second dinner. No biggie, right?”

Sam insisted on ordering an appetizer _and_ a main course, and since Dean didn’t want to admit that he’d already eaten because he’d forgotten about their date, he just agreed to it.

His brother ordered them a platter of nachos and some onion rings. Dean managed to eat his half without too much trouble. After all, he _was_ a big eater. Had always been. However, by the time their waitress took away the empty plates, he was pretty full. Not uncomfortably so, but it was definitely noticeable.

When Sam was rambling about a potential case he’d stumbled upon in Missouri, Dean discreetly slipped a hand off the table and unbuttoned his pants. He immediately felt better.

He was hoping he’d get some time to digest at least _a little_ before the main course, but unfortunately their steaks arrived shortly after the appetizers. While Sam dug in right away, Dean took his time. He cut a small piece and put it in his mouth. It tasted great, but at this point, he was anything but hungry.

“This is amazing,” Sam moaned.

“Yeah, it’s great,” Dean agreed. His belly rumbled unhappily when he swallowed and he had to hold back a wince when the feeling of fullness turned into a stomach ache.

He was halfway through his meal when he felt the first cramp just below his ribs. He grunted and pressed his hand to the aching spot.

“You okay?”

Dean smiled tightly and dropped the hand. “Of course. Just enjoying the food.”

Sam looked doubtful, but didn’t say anything. As soon as his focus was back on the plate in front of him, Dean rubbed a hand over his bloated tummy. It was beginning to strain against the button-down his brother had forced him into, and the additional pressure only made things worse. Glancing down at his plate, Dean realized that his plate was still half full. With a sigh, he continued to eat.

“Hey, look, they have apple pie.”

Dean physically flinched when his brother mentioned dessert. His belly was a taut, full mass of pure agony, and he didn’t think he could swallow another bite. The beer he’d had didn’t make things better. In fact, the carbonated drink is now churning uneasily through his stomach, making him feel not only stuffed, but also sick.

“I’m good, Sammy, but you go ahead,” he replied and smiled. At least he hoped it was a smile and not a grimace.

“You sure?”

“Positive,” Dean replied. A burp bubbled up from the depths of his gut and he swallowed it back, adding to the pressure in his belly. His hand was a constant weight on his tummy now, rubbing subtly back and forth. Thankfully, their table was in the corner and no one seemed to noticed.

Even though Sam didn’t usually have a sweet tooth, he ordered a slice of apple pie with vanilla ice cream. The smell alone made Dean’s stomach roil and he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth.

“You gotta try this, man,” Sam said. He held out his fork to Dean, who had the strong urge to slap it away. But his brother seemed to insist, so Dean reluctantly opened his mouth.

The pie was sweet. Very sweet and Dean had to fight his gag reflex. His belly gurgle dangerously, causing him to grimace.

Somehow, he managed to swallow, but as soon as the bite reached his packed tummy, a massive cramp gripped his insides. Groaning, he clutched his stomach.

“Dean?”

“Crap,” Dean gasped, then belched sickly.

“Jesus!” Sam exclaimed and reached across the table to grab his brother’s arm. “You gonna puke?”

Dean wasn’t entirely sure. He took some deep breaths, trying to settle the sick feeling in his gut.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, as he slid onto the booth next to Dean.

“I might have overeaten just a little…”

Sam frowned. “But you didn’t eat all that much.”

Dean gripped the tight sides of his overstuffed belly. “You may have been right about me having forgotten about our date,” he admitted. “I kinda already had dinner back at the bunker.”

It finally dawned on his brother what Dean was trying to tell him. “You can’t be serious.”

Dean stifled another burp. “Can you postpone the _I told you so_ until I feel less like my stomach is going to explode?” he begged.

“I can’t believe you.”

“Sammy…” Dean whined.

His brother rolled his eyes. “Stop whining, Dean. This is your own fault.”

Despite his harsh word, Sam reached out and place a warm palm on Dean’s belly. He instantly arched into the touch. It felt nice.

With a heavy sigh, Sam began to gently rub Dean’s tight tummy. The additional pressure hurt at first, but after a while it started to ease the painful cramps. Dean melted against his brother’s side.

“Next time, just tell me the truth, you moron,” Sam said, kissing the top of Dean’s head.

Nodding, Dean snuggled more firmly against Sam’s tall frame and enjoyed the way the large hand soothed his aching tummy.


	17. Day Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean feels insecure after having four kids and Sam makes it better. [Prompt by Roxie5129]

It was late when Sam walked into the bunker. He dropped his weapons bag next to the stairs and looked around. All was quiet. “Dean?” he called.

“Shh! Lower your voice, man!”

Sam spun around when he heard his brother’s sharp voice. Dean padded toward him, wearing a wrinkled grey shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants. His hair was unkempt and dark circles hung under his eyes. In his arm, he held their two-week-old daughter Jenna.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. You look worse than I feel,” Sam winced.

His brother glowered at him. “Shut up.”

Sam grinned and leaned down to kiss him. “I missed you,” he muttered against Dean’s lips. They’ve only been apart for three days, but to Sam it seemed like three months.

Jenna mewled between them and began to kick her tiny legs. Dean groaned. “Come on, J. What happened to you falling asleep?”

Sam chuckled. “Hand her over.”

With a weary sigh, Dean transferred the baby into Sam’s arms. She instantly calmed down and looked at her second father with big green eyes. Sam smiled and ran his fingers through her dark curls. “Hi, sweetheart. Did you miss me?”

“You gotta be kidding me. I’ve been rocking her for _hours_ and as soon as you hold her, she’s calm,” Dean huffs.

“She’s a daddy’s girl,” Sam shrugged, and grinned when Jenna struggled to keep her eyes open.

“That’s it,” Dean grunted. “Next time, _I_ go on a hunt and _you_ stay here with the kids. They seem to like you better anyway.”

“Dean, come on, don’t say that,” Sam said. It pained him to see the hurt in his brother’s eyes and he suddenly realized that while he was fighting to stay alive hunting a Wendigo, Dean had had a hard time at home as well.

“How about you go take a shower? I’ll put Jenna down and check on the other kids. I think you need a break.”

Without another word, Dean turned around and headed toward the washrooms.

Sam put Jenna down in her crib and smiled. He gave her a little kiss before turning to peek into the second crib in the room. Benjamin, who was already much bigger than his twin sister, was sleeping soundly. He gave him a little peck as well and left.

He tiptoed into the room across the hall and grinned at their two toddlers. Maria and Joan were both sprawled in their beds. Maria had her feet on her pillow, and Joan was halfway hanging off the mattress. Chuckling, Sam shook his head.

After washing off the grime from the last couple of days, Sam headed to the bedroom he shared with Dean. His brother was standing by the dresser with a towel slung around his hips. Grinning, Sam wrapped his arms around his middle and nuzzled his neck.

“Sam, don’t”, Dean muttered and twisted out of his grasp. He backed up a step, looking uncomfortable.

“What is it?” Sam asked, confused. His eyes traveled down to the still healing C-section scar on Dean’s abdomen. “Is it the scar? Does it still hurt?”

Dean shook his head. “No, it’s not that…”

“Then what is it?”

His brother bit his lip. “It’s me.”

Sam frowned. “You?”

Dean smiled sadly. “C’mon, Sammy, you can’t tell me you’re attracted to this.” He poked at his stomach, which wasn’t as taut and muscular as it used to be. Stretchmarks marred his skin and none of the clothes he wore before having the kids fit anymore.

The implication of what Dean was saying hit Sam like a ton of bricks. He rushed forward and took his brother’s face in his hands. “Dean, I love you.” Tears began to swim in Dean’s eyes and Sam’s heart ached for his brother. He realized how deep his insecurities were running. “You have to believe me,” Sam murmured, pulling Dean against his chest. “I love _all_ of you. You’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and nothing will ever change that.”

Dean blew out a trembling breath and Sam kissed his forehead. “I wanted to wait until Christmas to give you this, but I think you deserve it today,” Sam said and reached into the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to his brother. “Merry Christmas.”

Dean opened it with a frown. “What is this?”

“It’s a booking confirmation. For a spa weekend.”

Dean grimaced. “That sounds awesome, but I don’t think Jenna and Benjamin are quite ready for a trip yet. And Maria and Joan are going to need constant supervision. I don’t know how relaxing that’s going to be…”

Sam smiled. “No, Dean. This is for _us_. No kids. Jody volunteered to take our little rascals for a few days. She and the girls are looking forward to it.”

Dean blinked. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly,” Sam smirked. “You got pregnant so fast after our weeding, which is why we never had a real honeymoon. This might not be a fourteen-day trip to Hawaii, but it’s better than nothing.”

“It’s perfect, Sammy. Thank you,” Dean smiled and tugged his brother closer. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sam grinned and wrapped both arms around his brother.


	18. Day Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is hungry, then he isn't.

“I’m hungry.”

Sam looked up from the papers he was reading and glanced across the table at his brother, who was rubbing his growling stomach.

“Quit whining, Dean. We’re not done yet,” Sam replied, as he grabbed a folder from the large pile that sat between them.

Dean huffed out a breath and scrubbed a hand down his face. “We’ve been going over those incident reports for _hours_. I haven’t had breakfast or lunch. I’m freaking _starving_!”

Sam rolled his eyes. They’ve been over this already. Five times. “You’re not gonna starve, dude. We gotta finish this first. Else, we’ll never find out who our mystery ghost is.”

“You know what? _You_ finish this and _I_ will go and get us something to eat. I can’t focus with an empty stomach,” Dean decided and got up. He grabbed his phone, wallet and car keys and headed out the door.

Sam let him go, because a hungry Dean was much worse than an absent Dean. With a sigh, he bent over the papers again and continued to look for hidden clues that might point them toward their unidentified spirit.

Dean returned half an hour later. He was carrying a greasy paper bag and was already munching on a burger. He reached into the bag and pulled out a container. “Got you a Cobb salad,” he said and stuffed the rest of his burger in his mouth.

“Thanks,” Sam muttered distractedly.

Dean plopped down across from him and began unpacking his lunch. He unwrapped a second burger and hummed happily when he stuffed some fries in his mouth.

“Don’t get any stains on the files.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his brother mumbled, brushing the warning aside.

“Ugh, I ate too much.”

Sam sighed and glanced up. He watched Dean unbutton his pants with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

“I refuse to feel sorry for you,” Sam said and looked back at the papers in front of him.

“Whatever,” Dean grunted and went back to work as well.

A few minutes passed. Sam was busy reading a paragraph that might help them solve their case, when he heard a loud gurgling noise. When he raised his eyes, he saw his brother rub a hand over his stomach. “Was that your gut?” he asked.

Dean nodded miserably. “I feel so full.”

“That’s what happens when you eat two burgers, a large serving of fries, a slice of apple pie and a donut.”

His brother grimaced and clutched his belly. “Shut up.”

Taking pity on Dean, Sam nodded toward the bed. “Take a nap. It’ll make you feel better.”

“You could use a nap as well."

Sam chuckled. “You only want me to give you a belly rub. I know you.”

“Come on, Sammy. I’ve got a really bad stomach ache. Just ten minutes. Please?”

“Fine,” Sam gave in.

They lay down on the bed and Sam spooned his brother from behind. He lifted his arm over his waist and started to rub soothing circles against his swollen stomach.

After only a few minutes, Dean’s soft snores were the only noise Sam could hear. He chuckled and kissed his brother’s cheek.


	19. Day Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's not feeling well on a hunt. [Prompt by Alliya]

Dean had started feeling sick about twenty minutes into their hike. At first, he had blamed it on the beers he’d had the night before, but after a while of fighting dizziness and swallowing back bile, he figured it had to be something else. His stomach felt like it was in knots.

“Looks like the werewolf went this way,” Sam guessed and nodded at the large footprints in the snow. Next to them was what looked like the mangled remains of a human leg.

Dean came to a halt next to his brother. “Looks like it,” he muttered, fighting his gag reflex. His stomach gurgled threateningly and he turned his head away. He wasn’t a very squeamish person, but the bloody sight almost made him vomit.

“You okay?” Sam smirked, picking up on his brother’s disgust.

Dean glowered at him. Pushing past Sam, he trudged further up the snow-covered trail. The sooner they found the beast, the better, because he wasn’t sure how long the contents of his sloshing stomach would stay put.

Sweat was starting to bead his forehead five minutes later, and the dull ache in his belly turned into throbbing cramps. He gritted his teeth and pushed on.

“You’re slowing down, dude,” Sam chuckled and nudged his brother in the shoulder. “If we keep up this pace, we’ll have to spend the night here.”

“Quit bitching, Sam. We’ll get there before it gets dark,” Dean snapped. The pain in his middle was steadily intensifying and even the simple task of standing up straight was getting more difficult.

“Whoa, calm down. What’s going on with you?”

Dean closed his eyes. He didn’t mean to snap at his brother. “Sorry.”

Sam put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You okay, man?”

“Peachy,” Dean grunted, shrugging the hand off.

He took a couple more steps until a particularly brutal cramp made him gasp. Clutching his stomach, he stumbled and just barely managed to keep himself on his feet by leaning against a tree.

“Dean!” Sam was by his side in a blink, gripping his arm. “What’s wrong?”

Dean grimaced and curled an arm around his belly. “Don’t know,” he gasped. “Feel sick. Stomach hurts.”

Sam led him over to a fallen tree and made him sit down. He unzipped Dean’s winter jacket and shoved a hand underneath the material of his sweater. Dean hissed when his brother’s cold hand touched his warm skin, but after a while it actually felt nice.

Until Sam pushed down just a little too much. Wide-eyed, Dean shoved his brother aside. Sam landed on his butt with a yelp, but Dean didn’t have time to apologize. Everything he had in his stomach suddenly gushed out of him. Tears sprang to his eyes as he heaved and coughed, and his belly felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out.

When he was done, he felt completely spent. Trembling, dizzy and hot and cold at the same time. He dropped his head to his chest and exhaled wearily.

“Jesus, Dean. Why didn’t you say something?” Sam asked, as he stepped around the mess on the ground to cup his brother’s face.

Dean shrugged.

“Are you at least feeling better now?”

Dean winced and placed a hand on his stomach. It still felt tender. “Not really,” he admitted, just as his belly gurgled again.

“Alright, we’re heading back to the motel,” Sam decided. “Can you walk?”

Dean gave him the stink eye. “I’m sick, Sam, not disabled.”

Sam just rolled his eyes and gingerly pulled Dean to his feet. Slowly, they made their way back to the parking lot where they left the Impala.

“Here, put that on your stomach.”

Dean opened his eyes and squinted up at his brother, who was holding out a hot water bottle. “Where’d you get that?” he asked, as he placed it on his aching belly.

“The store down the street. I also got ginger ale, crackers and some meds the guy recommended,” Sam said with a smile. He sat down on the mattress next to his brother and ran his fingers through Dean’s short hair. “You should have told me you’re not feeling well.”

Dean sighed. “I thought it would pass.”

“It obviously didn’t,” Sam countered. He lightly rubbed his palm over Dean’s tummy. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” Dean murmured, and rolled toward his brother. The hot water bottle slid off his stomach and he let it. Sam’s touch was ten times better, anyway.

Sam chuckled. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “Eases the cramps.”

Shifting a bit, Sam made himself more comfortable on the bed. He rucked up his brother’s shirt and spread both large palms over Dean’s stomach, careful not to apply too much pressure. Dean practically melted under the touch.

“Please don’t ever stop,” Dean murmured, when he started rubbing large circles.

Sam laughed and leaned down to kiss Dean’s forehead. “Alright."


	20. Day Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a medical emergency. [Prompt by Zana_Zira]

Sam had just taken a bite from his hummus and chicken wrap, when he glanced up and saw that his brother was only picking at his dinner. His face looked pinched.

“I know this is healthier than what you’re used to, but you could at least _pretend_ like you enjoy it,” Sam teased with a smirk.

Sighing, Dean put his wrap down and pushed the plate away. “I have to admit, it does taste better than expected, I’m just not that hungry.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me you ate already.”

“I didn’t,” Dean swore. He grimaced and palmed his stomach. “I’m just feeling a little off.”

Sam frowned and put his own food down. He scooted closer and pressed the back of his hand to his brother’s forehead. Dean tried to dodge it, but Sam was faster.

“You do feel kinda warm,” he mused. “Maybe you’re coming down with something?”

“Yeah, maybe…”

Now that Sam properly looked at his brother, he could see the pallor of his skin and slight flush of fever on his cheek. His usually vibrant green eyes were dull and lifeless.

“Why don’t you go lie down?” Sam suggested. He rubbed his hand up and down Dean’s back to offer some comfort. “I’ll join you in a bit.”

Dean tiredly dragged himself to his feet and shuffled out of the kitchen. Sam watched him leave and wondered how he hadn’t noticed earlier that his brother was ill.

He quickly finished his meal, put Dean’s leftovers in the refrigerator and cleaned the dishes. He prepared a cup of tea for his brother, before heading to their bedroom.

Dean was curled up on his side when Sam stepped into the room. “I got some ginger tea for you.”

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Ginger is not _that_ bad.”

“No, Sammy, I’m serious…” Dean croaked and struggled upright.

Sam grabbed the trashcan from under the sink and shoved it in his brother’s hands, just as he started gagging. There wasn’t much to come up except for some watery bile.

“Sorry about that,” Dean muttered when he was done.

Sam took the trashcan out of his hands with a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry about it. Just get some rest.”

When Sam slipped into bed a while later, Dean was asleep. There were lines of pain around his eyes, but he seemed to be resting, which was for the best.

Sam turned off all the lights and settled down as well.

A rustling noise woke Sam a few hours later. He blinked into the darkness and it took him a moment to realize that it was Dean who was moving and shifting around.

Sam yawned and looked at his brother. “You okay?”

“No. My gut is killing me,” Dean moaned. "I haven't eaten anything and I _still_ feel full and uncomfortable."

“Come here.” Sam reached out and pulled him against his chest. He wrapped an arm around Dean’s back and put the hand of the other one on his belly.

“I bet your wraps gave me food poisoning…”

“Uh-hu, nice try, but you’ve been feeling sick _before_ that,” Sam corrected him. He moved his hand gently over his brother’s bloated stomach and hoped to be able to ease some of the pain.

When he shifted his palm to the lower part of Dean’s belly, his brother sucked in a sharp breath. “Crap, that hurts,” he gasped.

“Sorry,” Sam apologized.

Dean blew out a shaky breath and squirmed out of his brother’s hold. He sat up and scooted to the edge of the mattress. “Maybe I just need to use the bathroom.”

The next thing happened in slow motion. Dean stood up, swayed in place, and then collapsed in a boneless heap. With an alarmed shout, Sam lurched out of bed and rushed to his unconscious brother’s side.

The beeping was driving Sam insane. Looking at the monitor that hung above Dean’s bed, he tried to figure out if what he was reading was good or bad.

“Sammy…?”

His gaze snapped to his brother, who was sluggishly blinking at him. He was still pale, but the lines of pain were almost completely gone.

Leaning forward, Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Hey,” he smiled. “Good to see you awake.”

Dean frowned. His eyes traveled down to the IV in the back of his hand. “Wha’ happened?”

“Remember your stomach ache? It wasn’t just a regular stomach ache, Dean. It was appendicitis.”

“What?” Dean muttered, clearly confused. He moved his hand down to his belly and flinched when his clumsy fingers brushed over the bandage that covered the incision site. “Wow…”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed and smiled tightly. When his brother had passed out and didn’t wake up, Sam had dragged him to the Impala and driven to the nearest hospital. He had broke all speed limits and traffic laws, but he didn’t care. “You’re gonna have a pretty nice scar.”

Dean groaned. “Already got enough of those.” He threw back the thin sheet that covered him and glared at the gauze that covered his tummy. He poked at it until Sam slapped his hand away.

“Stop that!” Sam warned. He nudged his brother’s fingers away and spread his own palm carefully over the dressing. The skin surrounding it felt hot to the touch and Sam still struggled with knowing how close he had come to losing his brother. “I’m glad you’re okay," he whispered and rubbed his fingertips lightly over the smooth skin.

Dean smiled tiredly. “Me too."


	21. Day Twenty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam goes too far.

“More.”

“Sam, please, I’m done. I can’t—”

“More!”

Dean gasped when his head was yanked back and his brother shoved a piece of pie in his mouth. Sam clamped a hand over his nose and mouth, forcing him to chew and swallow. Dean felt the bite travel down his throat and could feel how it added to the already unbearable pressure in his stomach. He whimpered.

When Sam let go and allowed him to breathe, he sucked in air like a drowning man. He couldn’t even inhale deeply, because there was no room for his lungs to expand. Looking down at himself, he was disgusted about how swollen his stomach was. His belly was bulging out, straining against his normally loose-fitting shirt. He had lost track of all the things his brother had made him eat, but it was a lot. And it _hurt_.

A painful cramp tore through his middle and Dean squeezed his eyes shut. His hands were clenching and unclenching and he longed to clutch this overstuffed stomach. Unfortunately, his wrists were tied to the arms of the chair he was sitting in and there was absolutely no room for him to move.

Dean didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to endure this. His stomach already felt incredibly heavy and stretched, and he didn’t know what would happen if his brother continued to force food down his throat.

“Sammy, please…”

His brother smirked at him. “Sorry, Sammy isn’t home right now,” he said and blinked, causing his eyes to turn black. He bent down until his nose was only an inch from Dean’s. He pushed up his shirt and began stroking his stuffed belly. "We're not done yet..."


	22. Day Twenty-Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's not feeling so hot. [Prompt by Alliya]

Dean found his brother engrossed in a book when he strolled into the library. He tugged on the tie that hung around his neck and loosened the top button of his white dress shirt.

“Find anything?” he asked, as he plopped down across from Sam.

Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair. He ran a hand down his face. “Nothing. I went over everything _twice_ , but didn’t find any information about any unusual deaths in this town. Tell me you got something?”

“Depends,” Dean revealed. “I didn’t find anything in the archive at the police station, but I did stumble upon a great restaurant just down the street. Their gumbo tastes amazing.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Great.”

“Let’s head back to the motel and call Bobby. Maybe he knows someone who knows someone who can help us,” Dean suggested and pushed his chair back. His stomach gurgled audibly when he stood up and he patted his belly. Sam cocked an eyebrow and Dean just grinned at him.

When Dean was driving them back to the motel, the rumbling in his stomach intensified. He kept shifting and tried to find a position to ease the mounting pressure in his middle. He wasn’t aware that he’d eaten _that_ much.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Sam asked, when Dean began to fumble with his belt.

“What does it _look_ like I’m doing? I’m undoing my pants.”

Sam sighed. “Dean, you know I’m into that whole blowjob in the car thing, but I don’t think now’s the time to—”

“My stomach hurts, you jerk,” Dean grunted.

“Oh.”

Dean blew out a breath and kneaded a palm over his aching belly. He felt pretty full, even though he’d only had two bowls of gumbo. A burp bubbled up from the back of his throat and he stifled it into his fist.

Sam wrinkled his nose and cracked open the window. “Gross.”

“Sorry,” Dean smirked. He kept one hand on his stomach as he drove them onehandedly the rest of the way to their accommodation.

“I’m kinda hungry,” Sam announced a few hours later. He stretched his arms above his head, making his spine pop loudly. “What do you want?”

Dean grimaced. His stomach still felt a little off. “I’m good.”

His brother raised his eyebrows at him. “You’re good? As in; you’re not hungry?”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed. He put a hand on his belly. “That gumbo is sitting in my stomach like a rock, man.”

“That’s what you get for overeating,” Sam teased and poked his tummy.

Dean grunted and curled an arm protectively around his middle. “Don’t do that!”

Sam just laughed and got to his feet. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “I’ll be back soon. Text me if you change your mind.”

As soon as the door fell shut, Dean blew out a long breath. He placed both palms on his belly and cringed at how tight and full it felt. It had been hours since his last meal, but his stomach looked bigger now than it had before.

With a groan, he got up and dragged himself over to the bed. He shed out of all his clothes and crawled onto the mattress in just his underwear. Sleeping on his stomach was out of the question and even on his back was uncomfortable. He eventually settled on his left side and shoved a cushion under his hurting belly. He felt like a pregnant chick, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to sleep off the ridiculous fullness.

A touch on his shoulder woke him a while later. Snapping his eyes open, he was ready to fight until he realized that the hand belonged to his brother. “Dude, don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry,” Sam said sheepishly. “I got you some soup in case you’re hungry.”

The thought of food made Dean a little queasy and he shook his head. “No, thanks.”

Sam brushed his knuckles over Dean’s side. “Does it still hurt?”

“Kinda. It just feels really tight.”

Sam splayed his large palm over his brother’s bloated belly and pressed down a bit. His tummy gurgled and Dean gasped, slapping his hand away. “Dude, what the hell?!”

“Did that hurt?”

“What do you think? Of course it hurt!”

Sam bit his lower lip. “I didn’t apply a lot of pressure.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his sore stomach. “What are you saying?”

“Internal bleeding can make your stomach distended and sensitive to touch.”

“Sam, I’m not bleeding internally, trust me, I’d know if I was,” Dean assured his brother. “It’s just some indigestion.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Sam sighed and gave him a kiss. “Okay. Get some rest.”

Dean had been pretty sure that he’d wake up feeling back to normal. However, when he opened his eyes, he instantly knew that it wasn’t the case. He groaned and clutched his belly, which ached even more than the night before. He felt bloated and still full.

“Dean?”

“Sammy, something’s not right. My stomach _really_ hurts.”

Sam was out of bed in a blink. “That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“But—”

“No but. This could be serious!”

Despite his protest, Sam dragged him to the hospital one town over. After sitting in the waiting room for an hour, a nurse led them to an examination room. She asked Dean to take off his shirt and lie down on the gurney. Reluctantly, he obliged.

Ten minutes later, a doctor entered the room. She introduced herself and didn’t lose any time to start her checkup.

The moment her fingers touched his stomach, Dean flinched. He tried to suck in his belly, but that only resulted in more pain.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” the doctor smiled.

Gentle, apparently, was a relative word. Every time she pressed down a little, pain exploded in Dean’s bloated belly. He gripped the paper sheet he was laying on until it ripped.

“Dean, relax,” Sam said quietly. He loosened his brother’s fingers on the sheet and held them between his palms. Dean took a deep breath and focused on Sam’s warm hands instead.

“Well, it isn’t your appendix,” the doctor said when she was done. “It looks suspiciously like an allergic reaction.”

“An allergic reaction? To what?” Dean asked.

The doctor pulled off her latex gloves and tossed them in the trash. “I’m not sure yet, but we’ll do some tests to find out. For now, I’ll give you some pills. They’ll make the bloating go down. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as they were alone, Sam leaned down and gave Dean a kiss. “I’m glad it’s nothing serious.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. The put a hand on his stomach and sighed. “I guess the gumbo wasn’t as good for me as I thought. Bummer.”

Sam laughed and ran a hand over his brother’s swollen tummy. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you some gumbo that won’t inflate like a balloon.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”


	23. Day Twenty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean learns something new about his brother. [Prompt by Cleo516]

Dean frowned when he opened the laptop and the first thing that popped up was a porn website. That was nothing unusual, per se, but what was unusual was the fact that it wasn’t one of _his_ go-to websites.

Confused, he clicked around a bit until he stumbled upon a list of recently watched clips. He bit his lip and glanced at the closed bathroom door. The shower was still running. He didn’t want to invade his brother’s privacy by snooping around, but, on the other hand, maybe he could draw some inspiration from whatever it was that his brother enjoyed watching.

Decision made, he clicked on the first video on the list. It started out innocently enough, but after a few minutes, it turned pretty kinky. Was Sam into that kind of thing?

Just to make sure, Dean went back and selected another clip. He clicked on three other videos before he realized that, yes, his brother was into bellies.

An idea formed in Dean’s head and he smirked to himself.

When the shower turned off, he quickly closed the lid of the laptop and got up from the table, pretending like he didn’t just found out one of his brother’s secret desires.

A few days later, after they’d just had lunch at a diner and Sam bitched at him for ordering the greasiest food on the menu, Dean seized the opportunity to find out just _how_ _much_ his brother was into that kinky stuff.

Their waitress had just taken away their empty plates, when Dean leaned back in his chair and put a hand on his stomach. “Ugh, maybe you were right. I shouldn’t have eaten that greasy burger,” he sighed and made a show of rubbing his belly.

Sam visibly tensed.

Taking it further, Dean rucked up his shirt and pushed out his belly. Sam’s gaze traveled to his stomach and his eyes darkened slightly. The hand that was holding the coffee cup tightened. This _definitely_ did something to him. Dean grinned.

“Sammy, I’ve got a stomach ache,” he whined.

Sam swallowed, eyes still locked on Dean’s middle. “I, uhm…” he stuttered.

Dean laughed and dropped the hem of his shirt. “Dude, you’re like a teenage girl with a crush.”

His brother blushed and looked away. Even the tips of his ears turned bright red.

Taking pity on his brother, Dean leaned forward and gripped Sam’s arm. “Hey, relax. No need to feel embarrassed. We’ve all got our _preferences_.”

Sam chewed on his lower lip. “I guess you know about mine?”

“Yeah,” Dean chuckled. “Next time you look at porn, delete your history.”

“So, I take it you were teasing me just now?”

“Yep,” Dean grinned, proudly. “It takes more than one greasy burger to make my stomach hurt.”

Sam shifted. “Well, you could always, you know, have another one…?” he muttered quietly.

Dean narrowed his eyes. He knew what Sam was doing and smirked. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Sam looked surprised.

Dean grinned at him and waved over their waitress. He ordered another burger and some fries.

Sam watched Dean eat and when he swallowed the last bite, his eyes flickered to his brother’s stomach. “How does it feel?”

Dean put a hand on his belly. He wasn’t completely full, but his tummy was noticeably tighter. He didn’t have to push it out anymore to make it swell out.

“Feels good,” he replied and smiled.

Sam licked his lips. “Do you think you can eat more? Dessert, maybe?”

Can? Yes.

Should? Probably not.

But Dean saw the excitement on his brother’s face and nodded. “Sure, why not. Under one condition.” Sam looked at him curiously. “You come over here and _feed_ it to me.”

Sam was out of his chair in a blink. He sat down next to his brother and scooted closer until their knees were touching. He flagged down their waitress again and ordered a large slice of pie.

The first couple of bites went down pretty easily, but then Dean hit a wall. He turned his head away when Sam held the fork to his lips and burped quietly. “Give me a minute,” he muttered and dropped a hand to his belly. His belt was starting to dig into his abdomen.

Sam put the fork back down. “You okay?”

Dean chuckled and rubbed a hand over his bloated tummy. “It’s a lot of food, man.”

Sam reached out, but his hand hovered uncertainly an inch above Dean’s stomach. “Uhm, can I?” he asked.

“Go ahead.”

Apparently, Sam knew what he was doing. He worked his palm over the tightest parts of Dean’s belly and massaged away some of the cramps. His hand dipped lower and he unbuckled his belt.

Dean moaned in relief. “Oh, yeah. That’s better.”

“Think you can finish the pie?” Sam asked and reached for the fork again.

“Of course,” Dean smirked and opened his mouth.

“I’m so full.”

Dean leaned back in his chair and cupped his stomach with both hands. It felt heavy and tight, and was straining against the shirt he was wearing.

Sam placed his huge palm on his brother’s belly and grinned. “This is amazing.”

Dean snorted. “I hope you’ll still find it amazing when you have to carry me out of here. Because there’s no way I’m walking.”

“No problem,” Sam laughed.

Their waitress returned and put down a milkshake in front of them. Dean blinked. “We didn’t order this.”

“It’s on the house,” she smiled. “Merry Christmas.”

Dean stared at the glass and his belly gurgled unhappily in response. There was _no way_ this was going to fit into his gut as well.

“You got this,” Sam encouraged him and tilted the straw toward Dean’s mouth.

Reluctantly, Dean opened his mouth and began sucking the thick, overly sweet liquid in his mouth. Sam’s hand was a constant weight on his stomach as he gulped down the milkshake.

Dean had never been this stuffed in his entire life. His belly was cramping and he couldn't even suck in a full breath. His swollen tummy was clearly visible underneath his shirt and he suddenly felt self-conscious. Did Sam really find him attractive like this?

“You did great, Dean,” Sam praised. He pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I know you did this just for me, and I appreciate it.”

Dean just groaned in response.

“Let’s get you outta here and back to the motel. I promise I’ll make your tummy feel better,” he said, hand stroking caringly over Dean’s extremely bloated belly. “I love you.”

Dean smiled wearily. “Love you too.”


	24. Day Twenty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has an upset tummy.

Sam jerked awake when something punched him in the face. Looking around the dark room, it took him a moment to realize that it was Dean who had hit him. His brother seemed to still be asleep, although very restlessly.

Sam pushed himself up on an elbow and rubbed a hand over his throbbing jaw. Even asleep, Dean could pack quite a punch. He was just about to shake his brother awake and scold him for hitting him in the face, when he noticed the lines of pain around Dean’s eyes.

“Dean?”

His brother didn’t react. All he did was roll over and curl up on his side. A quiet moan left his lips.

Frowning, Sam pressed the back of his hand against Dean’s forehead. He wasn’t overly warm or sweaty.

Sam was just about to go back to sleep and chalk Dean’s twitchiness up to an unpleasant dream, when he heard a loud, gurgling noise, followed by another moan.

Confused, Sam squinted at his brother. Dean’s face was scrunched up in discomfort, and his right arm was curled loosely around his belly. Sam remembered the crazy amount of sugar cookies his brother had eaten on top of dinner and, suddenly, everything made sense.

“You’re an idiot,” Sam muttered, as he brushed a thumb over Dean’s cheekbone.

He managed to peel away his brother’s arm from around his stomach and replaced it with his own. He ran his fingers over Dean’s belly and winced in sympathy when he felt the muscles cramp underneath his fingertips. Dean whined.

“Shh, I got you,” Sam whispered. He splayed his large palm over his brother’s tummy and began to gently rub up and down. His belly was a little bloated, which was no surprise considering the amount of food Dean had devoured.

After a few minutes, the gurgling died down a little, as did Dean’s moans. He settled into a deeper, more peaceful sleep.

Smiling, Sam gave him a kiss and kept running his hand over his brother’s upset tummy until he too fell asleep.


	25. Day Twenty-Five

“Whoa, hey, where are you going?” Dean asked, when he stepped out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

Sam stopped with a hand on the doorknob. He looked over his shoulder at his brother. “I’m going out with Daniel.”

 _“Again?”_ Dean asked and raised his eyebrows. “What about the game on TV?”

Sam sighed. “Come on, Dean. I haven’t seen Danny in over a year. Let me have some fun.”

Dean pursed his lips. They had arrived in town two days ago when Sam had run into a former buddy from college. Even though it had turned out that nothing supernatural was going on in this place, Sam had insisted on staying an extra day to get some rest. That extra day had now turned into _three_ extra days, of which Sam had spent every single one with Daniel.

“Fine. Whatever,” Dean muttered and waved his brother off. He couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy that twisted his stomach when his brother disappeared with a happy smile on his face. Meanwhile, Dean settled in for another afternoon of TV and crappy takeout.

When Sam returned in the early hours of the morning, clearly drunk, Dean ignored his attempts to cuddle up. “Not in the mood,” he muttered and rolled over, facing away from his brother.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Sam slurred. “Tomorrow’s going to be for just the two of us. I promise.”

Dean was fuming. With his arms crossed over his chest, he glared at his brother.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Sam said, which caused Dean to snort. He’d heard the exact same words not even twenty-four hours ago. “Danny has tickets to this amazing event and invited me to come. I’ll be home before dinner, I promise.”

“Your promises aren’t worth a whole lot anymore, Sammy,” Dean growled.

“Dean—”

“You know what; Go. I don’t care.” With that, he grabbed the Impala’s keys, his wallet and phone, and headed out the door.

He drove to the nearest bar and ordered a beer. He downed half of it in one go and slammed the bottle back down on the table. It wasn’t that he didn’t want his brother to have friends, but he’d seen Daniel. The man was gorgeous, and he had that whole apple pie life going on that Sam so desperately wanted. Something that Dean could never give him. So, yeah, maybe he did feel threatened by the bastard.

Two beers later, Dean went back to the motel. He took off his jacket and boots and stretched out on the large bed. He dozed until he heard the door squeak open.

“Hey,” Sam said with a small smile. “I’m back.”

Before Dean could answer, his stomach began to gurgle loudly. Apparently, he’d gulped down the beers a bit too fast. He rubbed a hand over his noisy belly.

“Was that your stomach?” Sam asked, surprised. “You okay, man?”

And there it was. The concern and attention Dean had been missing so very much while his brother had hung out with that Danny guy. He swallowed and did the one thing he was so good at; He lied.

“My stomach’s a little upset.”

Sam frowned and sat down next to him. He looked worried. “Did you eat something off?”

Dean shrugged and rubbed his tummy. “Not sure, but it keeps getting worse.”

“Let me get you a glass of water and some Pepto,” Sam said. He gave his leg a pat, before getting up to gather everything. Dean smirked to himself. This was perfect payback for getting stood up.

When Sam returned, Dean sat up and wrapped an arm around his middle. He groaned a bit. “Sammy, I feel sick.”

Sam put a hand on his back and ran it up and down. “Just breath,” he said and handed him the water. “Small sips.”

Dean drank half the glass before handing it back to his brother. “I can’t drink any more. My stomach is cramping like crazy.”

Sam set the glass down on the bedside table and scooted closer to Dean. He wrapped one arm around his shoulders and placed his other hand on his brother’s belly. “Let me make it better,” he offered.

With a nod, Dean settled against Sam’s side and let him push up his shirt. The touches tickled the sensitive skin on his tummy, but he covered the chuckles up with moans. Sam seemed to buy it. His brother kneaded his belly with gentle fingers and simultaneously kissed his temple. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered and closed his eyes with a tiny smirk.

**Author's Note:**

> That's it, everyone! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you. Thanks for reading, reviewing and leaving kudos.


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